The Bok of Syr Folk

by Russ L. Howard

  “It is a cat three times the size of a panther that is white with black stripes.”

  Xelph chuckled, “You were just dreaming, Ary. Oft times, that happens with laudanum. There are twenty six young bloods and the hounds here. Don’t you think someone would have spotted a cat of that size?”

  “Yes, I was dreaming, but then I woke up and there before me,” he paused, thought it was not wise to tell them about the Elf-Father, then finished, “uh, uh, this huge cat was watching me. I must have frightened it off, because, when I moved, it leapt into the brush.”

  Elf Beard said, “Well, I told you to sleep with Long Swan in his tent, but no, you wanted to go off and pray. You spend too much time with the godhi listening to their wild stories of all the gods, elves, and faeries.” Straightaway, he rose up and beckoned Ary. “Let’s get over to where you slept. If what you say has substance then there’s got to be at least be some cat tracks.”

  Together they followed the path to where Ary had bedded down. He noticed the strange look that the two older men exchanged before Crooked Jack said, “By Woon, Willi, and We, you are right, the tracks don’t lie. They appear to be made by a panther of enormous size. I can only think the cat must have been upwind from the hounds or mayhap it suppressed its scent, they’ll do that on occasion. This is very, very strange and you called the beast that strange name. What was it again?”

  “Tiger.” Ary felt like he was in an inquisition.

  “Tie...gur,” Jackie repeated thoughtfully. “Just where did you get that name?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps it came out of my dream.”

  Khem added, “In the language of Teutsch there is the word Tier which means a beast. Maybe you are picking up on some of the Teutsch Lana speaks.”

  “I can’t tell you, it’s just the name of the beast and that’s all I know.”

  “Well, if I had not seen the tracks, I’d‘ve thought you had gotten into some bad mushrooms, my boy. A tiger! I ain’t ever heard of such a thing! Maybe you put too much sheep oil on your skin and that’s what drew the cat in, pretty boy. One thing’s for sure, t’weren’t no hallucination you’s seein.” Still shaking his head, Jackie walked off to get his mule.

  Xelph came over carrying the small blue bottle. “It was probably this stuff. Here drink another swig before you start the day or you’ll be sorer than a squash bug under a hammer.”

  Ary took a swig of the laudanum, winced, and stuck out his tongue, then finished packing his jack.

  * * *

  As twilight rolled in at the end of the following day, the packs of young bloods pitched their camps down in the savannah lands where there were groves of oak, huge ceiba trees, and clusters of date palms that looked to have been planted in prolific rows. Ary decided to tent with Xelph, Ilkchild, Sunchild, and Long Swan, his dearest youthful compatriots from the days of the skaldic academy. Once again he placed his stone pillow at the head of his wrap and gazed out the tent door while his buddies unpacked. All about them were the vast rolling hills with forest coppices strewn in patchwork over them.

  Xelph handed Ary a large grey seed head. “Ary, you look pretty useless just laying there. Will you hold this giant dandelion for me so I can get a sketch of it?”

  Ary took it in his left hand and twirled it slowly in his fingers, marveling at its intricate design. “How do you suppose it got to be this big, Xelph? It’s at least the size of my head. It’s like nature has run amuck everywhere here.”

  “This is not nature run amuck, it’s nature exalted and improved by some Elven hand. Those palms were not arranged randomly. Have you not noticed how all the vegetation here is swimming in color. I tell you, Ary, there is plant magic at work on this island unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Even the grass fattens the livestock faster than the grasses on the main land of Panygyrus. When I was lagging behind you all, I discovered these large puff balls. Something fecund is brewing here in these lands. Makes me think the gods have been at work here and I aim to discover the proof of it.” Xelph reached over and twisted Ary’s hand into another position. “Hold the seed head like that, I want to draw every detail.”

  “When we are through here,” Ary said, “I want to blow these seeds and see if they fly as far as the small ones do.”

  “You mean like the normal ones.”

  “Yes, that’s what I mean,” Ary said as he stared into the seed head. “Do you suppose they have the same properties as the normal dandelions?”

  “I’ll have to test them when we get back to find that out. At any rate, I’m collecting the seed. Damn, I love this place.”

  After Xelph had completed his sketch, he signaled to Ary to blow the dandelion duff.

  Ary gave a blast and the dandelion seeds floated out the tent door to ride on the breeze. He remarked, “This place reminds me of Zamora down in the Kalifornias, just endless rolling grasslands.”

  Xelph grabbed some of the giant seeds before Ary could blow them all off the stem. He labeled them and packed them away. “Long Swan, let it be written, this place shall be called Syr-Zamora, and please, record it in the journal as such.”

  Long Swan looked up from his writing. “That is a very appropriate name, Xelph. This place even has much of the same vegetation of the Kalifornias. I thank the gods the star-thistle is not that big.”

  Ary got up and followed the dandelion down over into the group of young bloods, who had gathered about the campfire for some song and poetry reciting, as was their custom. Ilkchild swatted at one of the floating seeds.

  “Are you come to tell us a tale of heroes and great battles sorely won brother? Perhaps Beowulf or the trolls of the Muckle Mark?”

  “No, just came to rub shoulders with comrades and see what’s up,” Ary said. Long Swan and Xelph came after him.

  Yellow Horse lamented, “I could sure use a ginger bee-ur with some rum on top about now. Might even try some of that laudanum,” He winked at Ary, “How bout it, Finger Buster.”

  It was a pleasant evening as they listened to stories, heard jokes from Yellow Horse, and then enjoyed a hot meal around the campfire. Ary’s finger was throbbing, but he requested no laudanum because he didn’t want the disturbing dreams that went with it.

  Indeed, were they even dreams, true night visions, or something else entirely? On the other hand, the visit from the enchanting redhead would be most welcome again. Perhaps if I stayed clear of the laudanum I will be able to discern whether she was drug or vision or prophecy? If only Brekka were here to scry the matter.

  As the sun began to set, he went to feed Ebenezer and unpack him. Walking back to the tent he heard fierce howls and odd roars. To his right in the canopy of trees he saw what looked like dark little figures of tiny little men scurrying through the trees. In the distant hills he saw shades or perhaps only bushes swaying in the breeze or even a Muckle-Mark Stepper or some other troll. Worse, maybe they were shadow-shooters or creeps like those he had heard inhabited the Poisoned Lands.

  As Ary made his way over to his tent for his weapons, Khem drew near looking as puzzled as Ary felt. “Ary! What the hell do you suppose that roar was?”

  Crooked Jack called out from the campfire, “I hope that’s not that creature you call a tiger, my boy. The size of those cat tracks fit the sound of that roar, if you ask me. Have a look for us. Will you?”

  Khem’s eyes grew wide, contrasting with his black skin in the twilight. “We best keep a hand on our elf blades, men, and you guards stay alert. Ary and I will go check it out. Ilkchild, would you grab the hounds and follow.”

  As the howls and roars continued, the mules became more and more uneasy, and the hounds kept up a constant chorus of agitated barks. Ary and Khem edged cautiously toward the grove of eucalyptus. As they looked up into the twilight silhouette of the surrounding trees, Ary screwed his eyes to see better. “They look like dwarves.”

  As the creatures scurried through the branches, Ilkchild came up with the hounds. “What in Dreun, are they?”

  Sol-Om-On Su
nchild appeared from behind them, long blond hair and peyos framing his face, sword held erect in hand, “Look, they’re over there now. Look up in those trees to the south.” He pointed with his drawn blade. “Do you see those hairy little men?”

  Long Swan then moved in behind them. “Could those little creatures have really made that sound?”

  Ilkchild waited for a cue from Elf Beard. Elf Beard, always perceptive signed his approval. Once released, the five barking hounds raced to surround the trees. One of the dwarves gave its ferocious roar, tossed a branch at the pestering hounds, and then leapt into the next tree. Elf Beard swiftly ran to the tree and leashed the dogs. “This race could go on all night, boys. Let’s hold these hounds back and don’t release ‘em again unless I give the word.”

  The chopping of the hounds was all it took to send the dwarves scurrying back across the tops of the trees where they soon disappeared into the distant forest canopy. Such was the creatures’ haste that the branches waved as though beset by a ferocious wind. When the commotion ceased, Elf Beard led the hounds back to camp, blew his hunting horn for assemblage, then ordered, “Khem, you take first watch tonight and I’ll spot you at midnight.”

  Elf Beard smacked one of the hounds with a burlap sack for striking after he had pulled it off the tree. “Get over there and you better not strike when I’ve pulled you off a tree. Bad dog!”

  The hound slowly crouched away and went to Ilkchild who scratched her behind the ears then tied her to the dog line. “Oh, she’s a good hound, Elf Beard, the bitch is just slow to listen. Aren’t you, Bodie?”

  “I’m not going to put up with it, Ilk. If you do, she’ll only get worse. Shouldn’t reward the bitch with all that petting or she’ll think it’s alright to disobey me anytime it pleases her and I know something about hounds.”

  * * *

  It was a still predawn when Ary looked up from his prayer and saw the passing of the Morning Star, Earendil. A quick glance over at the eucalyptus grove, where the hairy dwarves were the night before now looked so benign and promising. They couldn’t have been little men because, well, men don’t have tails.

  The first pink rays of dawn were piecing through the branches. As Ary went to bathe in the stream, the water was sparkling clear and warm against his skin. He immersed himself except for his wounded hand which he guarded from injury and held skyward. Surfacing he flipped on his back and floated, looking at the clouds softly painting the heavens. While the clouds floated on the breeze, a large silver cloud merely hoovered over him. There was a time when that would both surprise and intrigue him, but now he considered it another one of this isle’s many wonders.

  The day before, they had crossed over the Dragon’s Back. A region filled with upthrust granite. Arundel was fascinated by the sights and sounds and smells of this part of the island. Although he was acutely aware that dangers unknown might lurk behind each new ridge or forest, he considered each day a marvelous adventure filled with mythical beasts, remarkable plants, a magical stone. He especially valued his visitation from the Elf Father. It was better not to disclose such spiritual matters to his comrades. The godhi had warned him that few uninitiated understand such deep spiritual events, especially those who were not steeped in the way, the truth, and the light of the Herewardi Culture. Who was the lovely red haired woman that visited me in spirit? Was she a Valkyrie sent to guard over me? Perhaps even Mother Freya, judging by her exceedingly beautiful face and form.

  The enchantment of this land even held him enwrapped in the night visions and depths of sleep insomuch that the other camp members would inquire as did Crooked Jack, upon Ary’s return to the morning campfire, “Now, who were you talking to in your sleep last night, lad?”

  “I have no idea,” Ary answered, but considered that this land did hold a particular magic for him.

  “Well, you look haggard,” Jackie Doo said, “Or should I say hag-ridden.” He gave a loud laugh, and Ary could see Yellow Horse’s grin grew wider, as if he’d thought of something funny but refrained for the first time from joining the teasing.

  “I think you were riding hags in your sleep last night boy.” Jackie Doo elbowed Yellow Horse who was stirring a pot of oat flakes over the fire. “What say you, Jester?”

  Yellow Horse’s eyes were twinkling with amusement. He appeared to bite back a reply with his strained non-answer.

  “Don’t be such a chough, Jackie Doo,” Ary said with a frown. “In the first place, I don’t ride hags. My dreams have beautiful young women in them. It’s more like you to fantasize about the toothless hags.”

  Yellow Horse snorted, as though refraining from laughing aloud as he struck his knee with his hand. “Way to go Ary, you scored a touché on the chough.”

  Jackie Doo’s corners of his mouth turned down as if he was contemplating the next jab when Xelph teased, “When I heard you talking in your sleep last night, Ary, my advice to you is you need to marry. Now, I’m sure glad my dreams are silent, but I’ll bet I could go for her whoever she is in your dreams.”

  “I’m sorry I’m an open scroll in my sleep. You probably know more about her than I do, Xelph. But isn’t it strange that you mighty hunters heard that, but didn’t see the cat the other night?”

  Sunchild poked the fire with a stick, “If that little sex kitten you were describing in your sleep last night is the creation of this laudanum, I might have Xelph give me a swig or two of it before I bed down tonight.”

  Jackie Doo poured a cup of kefir from a jug, “That boy is all bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and horny. There’s nothing wrong with you, lad that a marriage won’t cure. But methinks you should’ve married before you came exploring, might even have relieved some of that steam coming out of you in your sleep.” Then turning to the white-robed Long Swan who was filling his bowl with oat flakes and dried blueberries, he declared, “Same with you, Long Swan. Ain’t it time both you and Xelph got yerselves hitched to a couple of those comely lasses who look at you with flirty eyes?”

  “I swear by the Seven Mothers, Jackie,” Long Swan exclaimed, “you can be such a heckling daw sometimes. Marriage is not something I intend to take lightly.” Irritated, Long Swan rose from his seat by the campfire to his full height carried his bowl of porridge over to a stone where he could eat alone free of heckling.

  Khem, who up until now had refrained from teasing, jumped in, “Ary has enough wives lined up, Jackie Doo. You’d think with all the sheep and horses he’s raised, he’d know what to do with them by now.”

  Everyone laughed and guffawed as though they were as drunk as a bunch of boiled owls, even though he knew they were stone-sober, and he didn’t know how to get out of the aim of his friend’s persistent heckling.

  A shift in the wind blew the smoldering smoke into their faces forcing them to reposition around the morning campfire.

  “Would someone pass me some pecans to go with this oatmeal?” Ilkchild requested as he sat down again.

  Finished with his breakfast, Ary moved away from the heckling and went to the pfalz tent where Xelph was writing in his plant and seed log. Seeing Xelph was now totally self-absorbed, he reached into his own pack and pulled out his journal of observations and tales he heard from the other members of the crew. Sitting cross-legged on his bedroll, he began writing. Since he was Long Swan’s bro son and in possession of the same Elf blood, he had often been told that he had the same propensity for words as the lore master. When he finished describing his dreams in detail, he looked over at Xelph and asked, “If that laudanum is so good for pain, why don’t you recommend its usage more often?”

  Xelph glanced up. “There’s the rub, my friend,” Xelph shook his head, “I saw how this drug was overused down in the Kalifornias among the Citriodorans. It made a whole tribe of Yumi into drones. No desire to work. No capacity to even gather their own necessities. Soon, I will begin weaning you off it slowly because if used too long it will make even a very good life seem dull as a dungeon.”

  “No need to. I’ve stoppe
d its use.” The surprised look on Xelph’s face made him smile. “I’ll return the bottle you gave me. I’m through with it.”

  “Ain’t we tough,” Xelph said, “I just better not hear you whining over your finger.”

  After Ary was finished recording the events of the previous night, Jackie Doo ordered everyone packed and ready to roll. Ary tucked his journal into his pack, neatly folded his bedroll, and then helped Xelph pack up his plant material. Long Swan and Sunchild packed the tent.

  They traveled another day through the grasslands, noting that the farther west they went the larger the trees grew. Massive eucalyptus groves erupting here and there, while giant strangler figs stretched their arms over vast expanses, running their long ropey roots down toward the ground, looking to the imagination like giant hairy trolls hiding in the dark wood. Toward afternoon they encountered timber bamboo forests clustered near running brooks and broad expanses of savannahs dotted with groves of oaks. Every few hours, they stopped for Xelph to dig up some more damned specimens. At the end of the day’s journey, they camped by a small clear gushing stream, and ate their fill of venison that Heronimo, son of Coyote had killed while Xelph was busy digging up his plants. Ary slept well that night with no dreams or visitations worthy of remark.

  * * *

  The next morning Jackie Doo was compelled to make better time, for it was still quite dark when he sounded the hunter’s horn to rouse them from their bed rolls. As Ary started the breakfast fire, a warm mist hung over the land, giving it a veiled mysterious feel and causing all objects to assume a soft hue. The young bloods took their early morning washing by the stream at false dawn and carried on by splashing one another. Ary could hear the mock fights even from the campfire, until they got out, dried off, and came in for the breakfast he and Yellow Horse had prepared.

  The young bloods were now wide awake from their morning splash, the hearty breakfast, and tales about some of the hunts they had been on. Ilkchild was still horsing around by wringing his mop of wet hair over Sunchild’s head while the young Jywd struggled to tie his peyos in a hair claw. ”Still laughing at one of Yellow Horse’s tales, Khem excused himself and went out into the dark mist alone to relieve himself near the bamboo groves. Time rolled on as they waited for Khem’s return. Though still quite dark, and breakfast over, Jackie Doo was noticeably agitated that Khem had not returned.